


Play Ball

by Morpheus626



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25055296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: A bit of Sledgefu that I’ve had brewing in the back of my head since I made this post: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186689955621/okay-but-sledgefu-with-a-baseball-related-plotPlease note that if there are any baseball inaccuracies in here, it’s because I’m not a huge Sports Person, and despite trying to double check rules and how the game goes, it is very possible I fucked something up. Forgive me if you find any lol.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Kudos: 2





	Play Ball

He was unhinged, a wild beast of a man, his blood boiling. 

And they hadn’t even started playing yet. 

“You always this…passionate, about baseball?” Snafu asked, watching Eugene pace and sulk, glaring down the other team. 

“They have the nerve to show up this late, we could have left by now, and they’re talkin’ shit,” Eugene spat. 

As if on cue, a player from the other team called over abuse to their bench, something Snafu could only half hear, about how they couldn’t hit a ball if their lives depended on it, and Eugene exploded. 

“Come over here and say that! I fuckin’ dare you!” 

Sid, the reluctant team captain/amateur coach sighed. “This is why his dad made him stop playin’ when we were kids. He gets a half mile within a baseball field, and…well.” 

“I mean, I don’t hate the passion,” Snafu replied as he watched Eugene nearly climb the fencing that separated them from the team and their bench from the field. “Just…haven’t seen him like this since Okinawa. And that was war, this is…” 

“Not war?” Sid snorted. “I know. But I already told him, he keeps himself together or he’s out for at least a game or two. Ain’t healthy, him gettin’ that upset.” 

“You know, you wanna talk about us not hittin’, but what about you showin’ up on time? Get a watch, motherfucker!” Eugene was almost spitting with each word, his muscles tense to the touch as Snafu gently pulled him back to the bench. 

“C’mon, wait to beat ‘em out there,” Snafu soothed, wondering if he wouldn’t have to actually sit on Eugene to get him to stay on the bench for the next few minutes until they could run to the field. 

“Oh I will; I’ll beat ‘em off the damn field,” Eugene hissed, then paused. “Wait, no-” 

But it was too late, and Sid’s laughter along with the rest of their teammates interrupted him. 

Snafu watched a smile break out on Eugene’s face. “Shit. I didn’t mean…” 

“We all know Snafu’s the only one you do that to, Eugene. Maybe reword that next time though, huh?” one of the older team members, a veteran who’d fought in the European theater laughed. 

The break in Eugene’s anger was a nice one, and Snafu felt a bit better as they ran out onto the field. This might be okay after all, and might even be a fun thing to add onto their summer schedules from here on out. 

The other team’s batter strode onto the field like he couldn’t be bothered to be excited to play. He barely swung at the first two pitches, and Snafu could feel everyone else’s confusion joining his. The fuck was this guy’s issue?

The third pitch, he gave an electric grin, and hit the ball sky high, giving Snafu a chance to watch Eugene, who was far enough out in the outfield to go for it. 

It was intense, and impressive. Eugene had a hell of an arm on him as he tossed the ball back towards their team members nearer the bases, screaming for someone to tag him out. 

He screamed even louder when they failed to do so, and absolutely howled as the next batter walked up, chuckling. 

“Look at him, he can’t hit shit! We got no goddamn excuse now!” 

“Eugene!” Sid’s voice rang out across the field. 

“Yeah?!” Eugene shouted back. 

“Shut the fuck up and get ready to catch somethin’!” Sid was half-laughing as he shouted, but Snafu noticed that didn’t seem to catch Eugene’s attention. He was petulant after the reprimand, red in the face and clearly irritated. 

Their pitcher seemed immune to all of it going on, as if he was somewhere else, pitching well without a care in the world, well enough to strike the batter out, and strike the smarmy grin off the player’s face. 

“Told you he couldn’t hit shit!” Eugene was bouncing on the balls of his feet in the field, glaring down the next batter before he was even fully in the batter’s box. 

Sid caught Snafu’s eye, and gestured to Eugene as he called for a time-out. 

Snafu trotted out to him and sighed. “You gonna be good for the rest of this?” 

“I’m fine,” Eugene said. 

“Bullshit. The hell about this goddamn game has you so riled up?” 

Eugene shrugged. “Just…don’t like losin’ at it, for some reason. I know it doesn’t mean shit whether we win or lose, I just get out here and…” 

“Okay, well you gotta relax, or Sid’s gonna pull you. You know he will. Won’t wanna, but he will. You good?” 

Eugene nodded. 

The next batter seemed half afraid as he looked out to them, but he hit the ball. 

At least, that was as much as Snafu could remember before waking up on the side of the field, a circle of concerned faces from both teams looking over him. 

“I will rip you to fucking shreds! So small they won’t have shit to bury!” Eugene’s voice was the loudest and clearest thing as he came back to himself, sitting up despite the protests of the other players. 

Sid was sitting on him in the dirt, motioning for the batter that had just been up to leave. “He’s gonna be fine, we’ll have a doctor look at him, you aren’t in trouble.” 

Snafu clambered to his feet, ignoring the ungodly ache of his head, and wondered how big the bruise on his head would be from where the ball must have hit him. “Hey, you the kid that hit me?” 

He looked to be all of nineteen, and took a step back as Snafu approached him.

“Relax, you’re fine. Shit happens. I made through Guaducanal and Peleliu, gonna take more than a rogue baseball to take me out,” Snafu smiled, and held his hand out for the kid to shake. 

Eugene, Sid, and everyone else had gone completely silent, watching them. 

The kid smiled, and shook his hand enthusiastically. “Thank you for yo-” 

“Ah, ah, I only brought that up so you know you didn’t kill me. I’ll be fine, and as long as you don’t make a habit of beanin’ other players in the head, you’ll be fine too.” 

Sid climbed off of Eugene, and sighed. “Everyone fine with us just reschedulin’ this one? I got a player to take to a doctor, and a goddamn headache.” 

The other team’s coach sighed as well, in relief. “Next Sunday?” 

“Sounds good,” Sid said and the crowd began to disperse. 

“Thought he fuckin’ killed you,” Eugene was beside him suddenly, and Snafu jumped. 

“Nah. You should know better by now; I got a skull so damn hard even common sense can’t break into it,” Snafu grinned, but Eugene didn’t smile. 

“I scared the shit outta that kid, actin’ like I did. This is my fault,” he said softly, and wrapped Snafu in a hug. 

“You need to do better at the next game,” Sid agreed, walking over to them. “But this isn’t your fault. Could have hit anyone, we coulda been up to bat and hit one of their guys. Just an accident.” 

“We’ll call my dad over, have him check you. I’ll tell him to come for the next week; we’ll just have him over for dinner each night and that way if anything happens-” Eugene had gone from sad and remorseful to frantic. “Let me look at your eyes, he told me what to look for once.” 

Eugene’s hands were on his face, pulling his eyelids up before he could bat him off, and he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Eugene asked, moving his hands from Snafu’s face to his waist. 

“Look in my eyes, Sledgehammer,” Snafu quoted himself, remembering the day he’d spent begging Eugene to try and diagnose him with an illness he hadn’t had. “Think a head injury is worse than the heebie jeebies?” 

Eugene smiled. “Even with a head injury, you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” 

“You can tell me how much of somethin’ else I am while you drive me home,” Snafu teased, though his head really was killing. 

“Both of you are gonna get in the backseat and shut up,” Sid sighed irritably. “Or did y’all really forget I drove us here?” 

“…thank you for drivin’ us home, Sid darlin’,” Snafu grinned. “And for bein’ the best coach we could ask for.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sid shook his head. “Just bring your best next weekend, and please, Eugene-” 

“I know,” Eugene interrupted. “Sorry, Sid. I’ll rein myself in next weekend. Promise.”

The drive home was still a bit awkward, if only because Sid had meant his command to stay quiet. If they so much as giggled, he shushed them like a frustrated father and reminded them of his headache. By the time he’d dropped them off, they were shaking from suppressing their laughter. 

Mentally, as he rested on the couch with Eugene’s father checking him over, he made a note to have them try some other sport in addition to baseball. Something calmer, that might not raise Eugene’s blood pressure to dangerous levels. He didn’t know what that might be, but he figured he’d have plenty of time to ask Eugene what he’d want to try, while he insisted on waiting on him hand and foot, refusing to let him move from the couch and then their bed later that evening, treating him like a potentially-concussed prince.


End file.
